I’m finally revisiting the characters from The River City Chronicles nine years after their original timeline. I’ll be running the series weekly here on my blog, and then will release it in book form at the end of the run. Hope you enjoy catching up with all your faves and all their new secrets!
Today, Ben and Loralei have their first date, and secrets are told….
< Read Chapter 37
Join my email list to get my weekly newsletter
with notifications of new chapters.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rules of the First Date
Ben stared at his face in the mirror. Can anyone tell?
He was forty-four, black, and reasonably handsome for his age. It had been more than a decade since he’d transitioned, and sometimes, when the light was just right, he could still see the contours of his old face. Softer, more feminine. Long hair, pursed lips, and green eyes staring at him from a visage he no longer recognized.
More importantly: Would she care?
He splashed cold water on his face and reached for a paper towel, feeling that twinge of liberal guilt at using something once and then throwing it away. One more crumpled piece of paper wasn’t going to destroy the planet. Besides, the other side was already well on the way to that, no matter what he did. He sighed.
Drying his face, he took one last look at himself in the mirror. Those moments of self-doubt came less and less often. He really had settled into being Ben. It was only this whole dating again thing that had him off his game.
Loralei was waiting for him, her wheelchair pulled up close to one of the tables by Ragazzi’s plate glasswindow. He’d felt a little weird keeping up the pretense, now that he knew she could walk, but she was worried her husband might spot her and make a stink if he found out she’d been lying.
She was wearing a pretty, feminine summer dress, bright green with golden flowers, that hung light on her shoulders. Her gaze was directed at the street outside, watching the passing cars.
He slipped into his own seat and picked up the menu. “Sorry about that. Should have hit the john before I left home.”
She turned her radiant smile on him. “Always winning the girls over with your bathroom talk?”
His face burned. “Sorry. It’s just…” He stared at her, drinking her in. It had been so long since he’d let himself just be happy. Why not try radical honesty? “I was in the bathroom staring at myself in the mirror, wondering what the hell I was doing here with someone as pretty as you.”
Her smile broadened, and a touch of pink flashed across her own cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She looked down at her menu, then her gaze flicked back up to him. “You’re really nervous about this?”
“What can I say? It’s been a long time.” He closed his eyes, seeing Ella’s bright smile.
“She must have been something.”
He’s eyes flew open and he stared at her, surprised. What,is she, psychic? Then he laughed and shook his head. “Sorry. Not falling for it.”
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Falling for what?”
“First rule of the first date. Never talk about your ex.”
She nodded. “Fair enough. And the second?”
“Don’t start things with a lie.”
She coughed. “I’m so sorry about that. I really didn’t mean—”
“Oh, no, I wasn’t talking about that.” Hs face burned even hotter than before. Ben, you’re an idiot. “You did what you had to. I don’t hold that against you. Besides, technically, we weren’t on a date.”
She smiled shyly. “True.”
His shoulders relaxed. “So forget I said anything—”
“What if we each tell the other something that’s true? Something … I don’t know. Deep. Real. I’m sick of guys who play games.” She leaned forward and met his eyes, challenge and a bit of mischief sparkling there.
I like it. I like her. A lot. He tried hard not to stare down her half-open blouse, his heart thudding in his chest.“All right. Who goes first?”
One of the waitresses passed by, carrying a tray filled with delicious-smelling Italian food—zitti and lasagna, by the look of it. “Be right with you.”
Wasn’t that the girl Marissa brought to the wake? He waved. “Thanks!”
“I’ll go first.” Loralei took his hand, turned it over, and traced the lines on his open palm with her red lacquered nail. “When I was twenty, I worked for a year as a palm reader in a circus.”
He shivered. “No shit!” He put his free hand over his mouth as Loralei burst out laughing. “Sorry.”
“It’s true. I quit college and wanted to see the world. I ended up mostly visiting a bunch of crappy little hardscrabble towns stretched across the Bible Belt and the Deep South. Next time I travel, it’s going to be Paris, and London, and Milan.” She got a dreamy look in her eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to take her there.
He tried to ignore the stirrings her nail across his upturned hand was causing. “So what does my palm say?”
She stared at it, considering it carefully, her brow furrowed.
He waited anxiously, shifting on his wooden chair. “Well?”
“I have no fucking clue.”
This time, he was the one who burst out in laughter. “I thought you said you were a palm reader?”
She flashed him a wry smile. “Not a very good one, actually. I quit when some guy with terminal cancer got pissed off because I told him he had a long, happy life ahead of him.” She looked out the window again, her mouth drawn into a thin line.
“Oh crap.”
“Exactly.” When she turned back to him, the sparkle was gone, and she looked deadly serious. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me something real.”
Ben swallowed, hard. Do I dare? It would come out sooner or later, but he had no idea how she would react.
He was saved by the arrival of their waitress.
“Hi, my name is Ainsley. I’ll be… Ben?” She broke out in a smile.
“Yes, and it’s… I wanna say Ashley?” He half closed one eye, cocking his head, hoping he was right.
She shook her head. “Ainsley. But don’t worry. Folks get it wrong all the time.”
Loralei glanced at him, then at Ainsley, a puzzled look on her face. “You two know each other?”
Ben laughed. “Kind of. She came to Brad’s wake with a friend of mine.”
Her shoulders relaxed. “Ah.”
Interesting.
“Have you two decided what you want?” The half-grin that crossed her lips told Ben she’d seen it too.
“Not yet. Give us a few more minutes?” Ben picked up the menu, though he’d been there a thousand times and knew it like the back of his hand. He wanted to give Loralei a bit more time to decide.
“You got it.” Ainsley winked at him and left them alone.
He glanced at the menu. “The tortellini alla panna is really good.”
She nudged him with her toe under the table. “Hey, it’s your turn.” The mischievous look was back.
“Ah. Sure.” I was kind of hoping you’d forgotten. “Okay. I don’t like peas. Except in pea soup.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Not good enough. I want something bigger.”
Ben sighed. I tried. “All right. I’m… different from the guys you probably usually date.” He looked away, not wanting to see her face when he said it. Actually said it. “I’m… trans.”
Her hand found his and squeezed it. “I said something big.”
He turned to look at her, his eyebrow arched in surprise. “Really?”
“That isn’t something big. Not when I already know.”
“You do?” He felt like an idiot. He’d been sure he was passing, though he hated that word. Living my gender. It had been a long time since someone had called him ma’am.
“Third rule of dating. Do your research. You’re a published author. It didn’t take me long to find your bio.”
Ah. Beautiful and smart. How did I get so lucky? “And it doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? My cousin is trans, and she’s even girlier than I am.” She grinned. “Tell me something else.”
Only one other thing came to mind. “I killed my last girlfriend.” It was out before he thought not to say it.
Her hand pulled back. “What?” Her face was ashen, her mouth open in an “o” of surprise.
“Not like that.” He sighed, closing his eyes once more. Ella’s face was never far away when he looked for her. “She had this thing called Fahr’s Syndrome. We got her this experimental treatment, and it helped. But I brought covid home one night and…” he choked up. It had been a horrible year—first the lockdowns and the fear, and then the reality, with Ella on a respirator in the hospital. Only able to see her via a phone screen. “It took three long weeks, but she died in the hospital, all alone.” He’d thought he was past this. That the mere mention of her name would no longer bring tears. But he’d only admitted it once, to Marissa, and they’d been interrupted when Sam had texted, the night Brad died.
“Oh, Ben.” She took his hands in hers. They were warm and soft. “You didn’t kill her.” She lifted his chin, and at last he met her eyes again, fearing he’d see disgust there, or pity.
All he saw was compassion. “If I’d just been more careful. Worn a mask. Stayed home that day.” He’d been helping out a local non-profit working with restaurants to deliver food to people stuck at home. “She… I wasn’t there when…” He couldn’t finish. Even now, more than four years later, it still cut him to the bone. I wasn’t there.
“She must have been something,” Loralei said again, squeezing his hands.
He pulled one away and grabbed his napkin to wipe away his tears. “First rule of dating, remember? No talk about the exes”
Her lips quirked up at the edges. “Yes, but you told me something real. And you forgot the fourth rule.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s our damned date. We can make up the rules as we go.”
He laughed, heartily this time, startling a woman at the next table. “I like you, Loralei.”
She grinned. “I like you too, Ben. Now tell me all about Ella. Then I’ll tell you my own Covid story.”
He stared at her for a moment, as if she might vanish into thin air. Somehow he’d told this woman his two biggest secrets, and she hadn’t run away. Maybe there’s hope for us yet.
“Okay. I first met Ella in the hospital, where she was visiting her brother, who was extorting two of my friends to get money for her experimental treatment…” It all tumbled out of him in a rush.
< Read Chapter 37
Like what you read? if you haven’t tried it yet, check out book one, The River City Chronicles, here.